Raider's Gold
by Smoo231
Summary: Gil, ImRyu and M'Rimba are members of a raiding party on a mission to find legendary treasures on the island of Vvardenfell. They'll meet new friends, slay some Daedra, and have various death defying adventures on their fantasmical journey.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is my first fanfic I've showed anyone. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.

Update 5/21/08: fixed some errors/confusing sentences.

* * *

Chapter 1

Ashlands Region; 15th Last Seed, 3E 437 6:00 p.m.

Gil and Im-Ryu waited atop a charred hill overlooking two purple towers. The Daedric ruins below were shrouded in mist. Somewhere down there was M'Rimba on a scouting mission, gauging the enemy. Experienced in the College of Illusion, the Khajiit could become invisible in order to sneak around unwanted battles.

A shadowy figured appeared, but the fog was too thick to determine exactly what it was. The only thing certain was it strode toward the two Argonians, seemingly with confidence in their location. It was most likely M'Rimba. Gil readied his halberd, just in case it was something less pleasant.

He could see a little clearer once the figure came closer. Indeed, it was the old cat calmly and confidently striding up the slope. Gil relaxed.

"What did you see?" asked the blue scaled Argoninan boy when M'Rimba stopped in front of them.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

_How is that possible?_thought Gil. Daedric shrines were never empty. Something always attempted to impede an intruder's progress.

"What? Have they been killed already?" asked Im-Ryu, the female Argonian.

"Yes, very recently by the look of it." He turned to Gil. "What do you propose?"

Gil thought a moment. If all the Daedra in the area were gone, they had either been killed or were in hiding, waiting to ambush a raiding party. The common Daedra did not have strategic mind or organization to preform the latter. Someone had been there, or still was.

"Regardless if the people, or person, is still here or not, there will be little loot left inside. Maybe we should wait outside and ambush them. We can have all the loot that way," he answered.

"Foolish!" growled M'Rimba. "What if they have already left?"

"I think he's right, Gil. We should go inside and have a look," said Im-Ryu.

--

Assarnatamat Shrine

Baeldir drew an enchanted arrow, a gray shaft of holding. The Daedroth advanced upon him. Shaking violently with fear, he attempted to nock the arrow, to no avail. He could not keep steady. A claw as big as the Bosmer's head came down upon him. Impulsively, he held his bow out to block the swipe. It splintered in his hand. He reached for his dagger at his belt. The humanoid gator gave him no opportunity. It's giant maw clamped onto his right shoulder, effortlessly tearing through Baeldir's leather armor and reaching the bone. He screamed in agony. Blood quickly soaked his shirt. His arm grew numb and his vision blurred. With a sickening rip, he pulled himself away from the jaws. He fell over. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the Daedroth looming down upon him…

* * *

Sorry there's a cliffhanger. I've already written the next part, I just need to type it.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, no one reviewed... oh well! I won't be discouraged! But seriously, people can I get some acknowledgement? I also changed the summary, if you haven't noticed. I figured that was why people didn't really read it in the first place. One more thing, there may be some spelling mistakes further down. It's a long story, but the bottom line is I don't have spellcheck at the moment. I did my best to proofread, though.

Update 5/21/08: Some routine revision; proofreading, changing some sentences, etc. Also added some description.

* * *

Chapter 2

Assarnatamat Shrine

15th Last Seed, 3E 437, 6:30 p.m.

"I sense something ahead," said Im-Ryu almost immediately after the oval door closed behind the party. The three stood at the top of a winding staircase. Due to its twists, they could not see the room beyond.

"What is it?" asked Gil.

"A monster of course, but this spell doesn't tell me what kind." The detect creatures spell she used told her only the general location of a creature. Another drawback was its range, which was why scouting excursions, courtesy of M'Rimba, were needed beforehand.

"Alright, let's use the primary tactic," M'Rimba commanded. He was referring to their most often used and most efficient way of dealing with single enemies. Im-Ryu would paralyze the enemy after which Gil would kill using good ol' fashion steel. M'Rimba was too old to fight, and stayed back to watch for a potential ambush.

The two Argonians nodded. "Right, then," said M'Rimba. "Let's go." He motioned forward with his paw. Im-Ryu took the lead; she knew where the enemy was, and would be making the first strike. Gil followed her, readying his halberd. M'Rimba drew his tanto and followed, wary of his surroundings.

At the bottom of the stairs, was the shrine room. A statue of Mehrunes Dagon towered above them, reaching up to the ceiling. The vast open room was lighted by ancient magical ceiling lights, from which a moldy-looking green mist poured. Torches were aligned in certain positions, significant only to the few cultists who prayed to the alter. Gil shivered, thinking about what sort of sick minded person would worship the Daedra of disease and calamity.

"It's behind the altar," whispered Im-Ryu. As she finished her statement, an agonizing scream tore through the air. All three were startled. Gil's grip on his halberd tightened. M'Rimba had been right; someone was inside, and whoever it was, was in trouble. As the shriek faded through the echoing ruins, the trio began sprinting to its source. They would give their aid, traveler, cultist or otherwise.

Around the back of the altar, was a gruesome sight. A male Wood Elf lay unconscious on the stone floor, blood pouring perfusely from his wounded shoulder. Hovering over his chest were the jaws of a sinister looking Daedroth; the elf's blood dripped from its maw.

With great urgency, Im-Ryu felt for the magicka within her, bending and twisting the energy into the state she wanted. The Daedroth's jaws stretched wider. It reared back in preparation for its final blow. Im-Ryu finished the spell and shoved it toward the beast. A hazy green ball whizzed through the air, aimed at the Daedroth's chest. The monsters teeth began to come down on its target. It was the deciding moment. If the Daedroth resisted the spell, the elf beneath it would be killed.

It worked! The Daedroth froze inches away from the elf's chest, unknowing of what hit it.

"You have thirty seconds!" Im-Ryu spoke quickly.

Gil hissed. "Plenty of time." He charged forward, and with a mighty swing, settled the axe head deep in the beast's chest. The body fell limp and sagged over the shaft. Gil flung it aside, away from the Bosmer.

Wasting no time, Im-Ryu rushed to the elf's aid. She pulled a potion from the pouch at her belt and handed it to Gil. "Have him drink this. It will stop the bleeding." Gil did not hesitate. He pulled the cork from the bottle's mouth. Lifting the elf's head, he poured the liquid down his throat. He coughed violently, causing him to wake. The flow of red began to subside.

He looked up into Gil's eyes. Their blue irises pleaded: "Don't let me die here... not in this hell-hole". Gil soothed him with his flawless Tamrielic, "Fear not, we are helping you."

Im-Ryu lowered her hand to his wound and cast the healing spell she had been preparing. Gil watched in awe as small blue lights began to flit back and forth across the hole in the Bosmer's arm. They made replacement bone, muscle, veins and skin to hold him together until real tissue could regrow in its place.

The elf spoke, "Thank you, seras."

"No trouble at all," said Gil.

M'Rimba moved in closer to the Bosmer. "We are going to leave for Balmora, which is southwest of here. You should come with us so Im-Ryu can monitor your health." The elf nodded in agreement. If the spell failed, he could suffer internal bleeding. It would be helpful to have a healer nearby. "Alright. Im-Ryu, do you have enough magicka to cast Divine Intervention?" asked M'Rimba.

"Yes," she answered. In a few moments, they teleported, bound for the city of Balmora.

* * *

How was that? Review please!


	3. Chapter 3

It took a little longer than I had hoped to get it up, but here it is! Spellcheck's back, btw.

Update 5/21/08: More routine changes. Fixed errors, added/removed/changed minor content to make it sound better. Also added some conversation important to the story. Another note, chapter four will be up hopefully within two weeks.

* * *

Chapter 3

Balmora

16th Last Seed, 3E 437, 7:00 a.m.

Gil stepped out of the South Wall Corner Club into the cold morning air. He sighed and smiled. He liked cold days, which was a bit unusual for his kind. Taking long strides, he made his way toward the Odai River, which ran through the center of Balmora. It was not a long walk, and he reached the edge of the canal in about a minute. He sat down, legs dangling over the side, and stared into the water. The river slowly snaked its way southwest from the spring north of the city to the Inland Sea near Hla Oad. Gil watched as it ambled along, not caring where it ended up or what it faced on its journey. Im-Ryu had said he was like the Odai, though Gil had not understood what she had meant.

Something compelled him to look up from his hazy reflection. It was the Wood Elf his group had rescued the previous day. The mer stood on the nearby bridge, staring out to the northeast, where Red Mountain loomed, tinted purple from the morning light. Gil rose to his feet and walked over to greet the traveler.

"Hello, Bosmer. You're up early," he said cheerily.

He looked up at Gil and smiled. "Good morning, Muthsera!" he exclaimed in a high-pitched Wood Elf voice.

Gil was startled by the elf's use of a respective word. "M-Muthsera?" he stammered. No one had ever shown such respect toward him.

"Pardon me; does 'Muthsera' make you uncomfortable? I am in great debt to you, and thought it only fitting. You saved my life, you know."

"Yes, but no one has ever called me that before. It's a little strange to my ears, that's all."

"Perfectly understandable, but I've no other name to call you by."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Gil blushed, embarrassed he had forgotten to give his name. "I'm Gil, a warrior," he said and held out his claw.

"Baeldir the archer. Pleasure to meet you Gil," said the Bosmer as he took Gil's hand and shook it. "By the way," he continued, "I've noticed that you have no accent. Why is that?"

"Oh, well I was born and raised in Vvardenfell. My parents were escaped slaves and could already speak very well. I learned from them," explained Gil.

"I see. I always thought Argonians and Khajiit normally speak with growls because of their anatomy. I've never heard of an Argonian who can speak as you do." His voice was filled with something like awe.

"I'm one of a kind, I guess," said Gil, unsure of whether to be proud or not. Attempting to steer the subject away from himself, he inquired about Baeldir, "I don't mean to pry, but I was wondering what you were doing in that Daedric shrine yesterday. You can't have gone in there with out knowing your life was on the line."

Baeldir drew a sharp breath. After a moment, he ventured tentatively. "Why do you want to know?"

_Why so defensive? Its not as if he's... _A thought suddenly crossed Gil's mind, and he suppressed a shiver. He and the others had charged in and saved Baeldir without asking questions. It was possible this mer was of the unpleasant sort. Perhaps a smuggler or a cultist or even a necromancer...

Before the silence stretched too long, Gil spoke, "N-No reason! I was only curious." With such possibilities, he had the strong feeling he did not want to get on Baeldir's bad side.

Baeldir spoke before Gil could continue speaking, "You have a right to be, I know. The truth is, I'm in debt. I owe 100K to a Dunmer in Vivec. As of now, I have little more than two weeks to come up with the money. I've heard of freelancers who strike it rich in abandoned caves and ruins in the ashlands, so I went to see what I could find... I was doing well, at first; I'm an enchanter as well as an archer, and making magic arrows is very helpful. Well at any rate, I let my guard down while taking offerings from the alter..." He stopped. Both knew what happened next.

Gil felt sorry for him. "I wish I could help, but we're poor ourselves, living from raid to raid..."

"No, No! Don't trouble yourself," Baeldir interjected, speaking quickly. He continued with a sigh,"But it seems I am in debt yet again, as I owe you my life."

"We helped because you were in trouble, not for the reward. It was one of those common courtesy things, you know?" Baeldir smiled at the last remark.

A silence followed between them. Gil could hear the sounds of townsfolk waking up. He also noticed a pair of Hlaalu guards hanging a banner across an alley on the other side of the river. He wondered what the occasion was.

"Baeldir," Gil began to inquire. When the elf looked up, he continued. "Would today happen to be sixteenth Last Seed?"

"Yes, I believe it is."

"It's Nerevarine Day! I completely forgot!" Today was Vvardenfell's biggest festival where everyone, even outlanders, were allowed to join in the fun. Nerevarine Day celebrated the day the hero, Nerevarine, came to Vvardenfell and cured the land of the blight and saved the world from the threat of Dagoth Ur. The entire event occured as prophesied in Dunmer mythology, with the reincarnated hero of legend destroying the dark elves' greatest foe in history (except for perhaps the empire, to which Morrowind was now fully a part of). Gil remembered the very day the prophecy came true; how everyone rejoiced to see the ominous clouds dissipate from the top of Red Mountain. It had only been ten years since, when he was nine years old. "I should go and wake my friends," he continued. "Do you plan to stay in Balmora long? Perhaps you can stay for the festival."

There was a pause as he thought. "I suppose I can stay for a while longer. I would like to get to know your friends better as well."

Gil smiled broadly, revealing all of his gleaming pointed teeth, sincerely happy. He then led the way back to South Wall Inn.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey. How long has it been? What?! A year already?! 0o

Yeah, so here I am again. If you've read the other parts of the story before, it'd be a good idea to read them again, as I added a few things. The first three chapters combined are still about the size of one, so it won't take you too long. Ya probably forgot what happened anyway...

* * *

Chapter 4

Balmora

16th Last Seed, 3E 437, 11:00 a.m.

Come late morning, the city of Balmora had transformed. Everyone on the western side of the island had come to the city to celebrate, and the streets choked with people. Their clamor clogged the air with the buzzing constant of many talking at once. Every so often a cry would rise above the din; someone trying to be heard out among the rest.

Once drab gray buildings were draped with colorful banners, their messages praising the great hero of Vvardenfell. Booths providing food, drinkand entertainment lined the streets. Various aromas drifted from those stalls; frying meat, roasting large exotic animals, simmering vegetables, and baking pastries. The delicious scents drew in passers-bys from the street in droves. Troubadours perched on every corner, singing praises of the Incarnate. Their lively festive tunes gave a cheerful atmosphere, lightening the hearts of the many workers who had taken the day off to celebrate. For them, Nerevarine day was a long awaited time of relaxation.

Gil stepped out of the South Wall, arm linked with Im-Ryu's. They paraded the streets together, the typical young couple, if only for a day. M'Rimba had generously given an allowance to the two for the special occasion: twenty gold each! It made Gil wonder how much money M'Rimba secretly kept from the group. With the gold lining their pockets, they liberally handed out coins to the peddlers in exchange for sweets and trinkets.

The couple eventually came across a small raised fighting ring with a great mass of people gathered around it. A Redguard man stood on a pedestal to the left of the arena, and was shouting over the chatter, "My offer still stands: a choice of these lovely prizes _and_ one hundred gold for the one person who can best the fearsome Gloknar!" An ugly roar burst forth at the sound of the name, a noise that could only come from an Orc. Sure enough, a large, yellow skinned one stood triumphantly waving an axe in the center of the stage. Over to the right, Gil noticed a disoriented Nord man, sitting bloody in a chair surrounded by two healers and what looked to be his wife. The red haired woman was laughing uproariously at her husbands defeat.

"No one is brave enough? Will no one accept this challenge?" the Redguard called out again. Gil could not see the prizes that were previously mentioned, but the challenge beckoned his warrior spirit.

"I can best him!" he shouted back, scaly claw raised high. The crowd grew silent in a instant as all eyes turned to see who had spoken. They were shocked further to see only a lanky Argonian boy, no older than eighteen. The awkward stillness was broken by a throaty laugh, courtesy of Gloknar.

The announcer, however, was not fazed. "Ah, the rashness of youth! Well, if you're so sure of your skill, step up here and show us that you've got as much bite as your bark!"

Gil chuckled to himself, "Not rashness, just confidence in my skill." Gloknar's face had fallen into a dumbfounded stare, mouth agape, yellow eyes glazed in stupidity.

"This guy's not too bright, Gil. This should be easy," whispered Im-Ryu, speaking the truth as always.

"I'll be right back," he said as he stepped toward the ring. As he did so, the Redguard indicated a chest of various weapons for Gil to choose from. He selected a heavy spear, since he had not brought his own halberd. After testing the balance and finding it satisfactory, he slipped beneath the dividing ropes and into the ring. Gloknar stood on the opposite side, sneering at something he apparently found humorous.

Gil rolled his shoulders and steadied his breathing, preparing for the one on one match. He'd have no help from teammates today.

"Before you start, I'll just need to collect your entry fee," the Redguard said to him.

"You didn't say anything about that!" Gil sounded more surprised than he actually was.

"It's your fault for not hearin'. Cough up fifteen gold or leave."

Gil sighed. He had only sixteen left in his pocket, and he had planned to use it for other things at the festival. Reaching in, he pulled out fifteen gold and solemnly handed them over to the proprietor. Their cheerful clinking echoed on the Redguard's face as he added them to his own coin purse. The man jovially asked whether or not the contestant was ready to fight.

"Yeah," came the indifferent reply.

"Then begin!"

Gloknar did not hesitate. The ugly face twisted out a battle cry, and he charged forward, battle axe raised high over his head.

_Such an awful stance, _thought Gil, noting how wide open his chest was. With the superior range of a spear, a single well timed stab would end the battle— and the Orc's life. Yet Gil was not out for blood, and the spectators wanted a show. With this mindset, Gil neatly sidestepped the loping swing as it came down upon him. He followed the maneuver with a sharp rap with his spear butt on the Orc's backside. The awkward, unbalanced fighter fell forward, face connecting squarely with the mat.

The crowd was silent with awe. A mere child was toying with a large, intimidating warrior. Then all at once, everyone burst into laughter.

Gil took the time during this momentary ceasefire to wave at Im-Ryu. She was giggling to herself, eyes sparking with amusement.

Humiliated, the brute rose to his feet. His face was beat red with embarrassment. Gil could not help but pity him. A damaged pride hurt worse than any open wound.

Growling, Gloknar charged again, this time with a swing from the left. Gil decided to be flashy, if only for Im-Ryu, and jumped over the slash. With the blunt of his spear, he flung the axe away from his opponent. It went spinning through the air and landed with a harsh clang on the street behind the ring. Using the back end, he jabbed the Orc between the eyes. With a cry, he tumbled backwards, clutching the point of impact. His bottom struck against the mat, causing the ring to shake beneath Gil's feet.

"Umm, do I win yet?" said Gil, now facing the Redguard. The brown eyes held disbelief, and his mouth hung wide open. At once, the man clicked into action. Grabbing a sword from the nearby chest, he flung himself into the ring. The crowd yelled out in disapproval, claiming he was cheating, and that the Argonian had won. That did not stop the conman's blade from unleashing a wild barrage of swings aimed at Gil.

Gil had always hated things with swords. It was difficult to block a swing and be in position to counter using a spear. So he held a defensive stance, and waited for the man to tire.

Before the opportunity to switch to offense arose, the spear he was holding snapped in half. Gil looked at the pieces with a mixture of perturbance and despair. The swings would probably be too fast for him to dodge alone.

To make matters worse, the Orc had recovered and retrieved his axe. Now he was looking for revenge with a bloody passion. Only a loud roar announced his attack and gave Gil warning enough to roll away. The axman had been standing behind Gil's initial position and his blade struck where the Argonian's head was only seconds before.

Unarmed and outnumbered, Gil assessed his surroundings with a mind for retreat, when both advancing warriors stopped dead in their tracks. They had been paralyzed. Im-Ryu climbed calmly into the ring behind the two armed with a stout club. With two with well aimed thwacks, she smacked the two upside the head, knocking them unconscious. Their limp bodies sagged, but were held up by the paralysis spell.

"Alright there, Gil?" she asked.

"Better than ever with you here."

"You can be such a fool sometimes, showing off like that!"

Gil smiled sheepishly. He had wanted to win something for her, and he wanted to look good doing it. In the end, she needed to bail him out. Gil grimaced, upset with himself. A damaged pride hurt worse than any open wound.

A Dunmer man from the crowd approached the pair, carrying a large sack that jingled musically with the sound of money. "This belongs to you," he said, offering forward the bag. "We all saw you win, fair and square, even when they decided to cheat. So, you have the right to all the prizes and the money."

Gil accepted the bag, taking it with both hands. "Thank you,"

The Dark Elf nodded and turned away. The crowd was dispersing now. Two men, however, were striding toward Gil. One of them was Baeldir, who was beside himself with excitement. The other was an Imperial, clad in shiny silver armor and a robust violet cape— obviously somebody with high status in the army.

The unfamiliar man reached the Argonian first, and began talking in a fast, authoritative tone, "You two are some fighters. I've been looking for someone like you."

"What do you want from us?" Gil prodded warily. Baeldir had arrived behind the man, confusion apparent in his features.

"The legion has been looking for a group of independent warriors to assist them in a top secret mission. There's a fine reward, if you're interested."

_This guy doesn't beat around the bush_, thought Gil.

"Why can't the army handle it? Or ask the guilds? That would be easier than tracking down some freelancers," said Baeldir. The soldier spun around, aware of the Bosmer's presence for the first time.

"Are you with these two?" he asked.

Baeldir paused a minute, unsure of how to answer. Gil spoke for him, "Yeah. Yeah, he's with us."

"Right. Well, like I said, we need someone independent. Nonaligned."

"Like us," finished Im-Ryu in a low voice.

"Exactly. We're offering two thousand gold for the job. If you want it, come to Moonmoth Legion Fort tomorrow and ask for Commander Siddas. I'll give you the details there." With a subtle, yet meaningful flourish of his violet cape, he turned away toward the city's exit.

Once he had retreated out of earshot, Im-Ryu spoke, "I find this whole thing shady. If the legion needs someone independent, it must mean they don't want to get their own hands dirty."

"You think they're up to something illegal? Something they don't want the world to know about?" asked Gil.

"That, or they don't want word to get out they can't do their job right," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Um, hey guys?" Baeldir's high Wood Elf voice squeaked.

The Argonians snapped out of their thoughts and looked at the Bosmer. "Oh, Baeldir! Sorry you had to see all that," Gil said.

"No, it's alright, but did you really mean it when you said I'm with you two?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course! You're a friend," said Gil. Im-Ryu nodded her assurance. "At any rate, we should go find M'Rimba, see what he's up to."

"And show off your prize money! That was a great fight, by the way!" Baeldir cried cheerfully.

"Oh, thanks. It was nothing really— the guy had a raw steak for a brain," Gil said with a laugh.

"Literally…" commented Im-Ryu.

* * *

Well, there you go. Gee, what can you do now that you've read my story... hmmm... Oh! How about review it? ;)

Next chapter up hopefully by the end of the month. It's summer, so I have lots of time to write.


End file.
